The 15 Reasons Why You Should Say No To Alcohol
by KandiLips
Summary: Yeah, the title PRETTY MUCH says it all. Just a series of one-shots in which Ben, Gwen, Kevin, and Julie are unwise about their intake of booze... Rated T for CERTAIN chapters. Contains Gwevin & Benlie!
1. Jewelry Stealing

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**_

_**Yo, Fan Fiction! Okay, I have been DYING to write up this new collection of one-shots, probably my craziest one yet... if it's even possible to get any crazier than I am now- I mean, let's face the facts: I'm downright psycho at times. And all of you poor people here have been witnesses to it all... I apologize. LOL. ;) Anyways, hope you all enjoy this new collection- basically, the title says it all. It's all about why you should say "no" to alcohol as a kid. STILL don't understand WHY you should say "no"? Well, you'll soon find out...**_

_**STANDARD DISCLAIMER:**_

_**Yeaaaaah, this is getting old.**_

…_**...**_

_**The 15 Reasons Why You Should Say No To Alcohol**_

_**#1: Jewelry Stealing.**_

NOBODY'S POV:

"Julie, Julie, JUUULLLIEEE! LOOK at this!" Gwen called over her dark-haired best friend and, at the particular moment, fellow drunk.

"Whaaaat is it?" Julie gasped in her booze-affected tone of voice, sprinting through the jewelry store's dense crowd and shoving a few unfortunate shoppers into the carpet in her hurry.

"It's a BEAAAAAUTIFUL necklace!" The enchanted Gwen chirped, singing out the word 'beautiful' to give it more meaning as she scooped up the necklace from under the shop's window.

"Oooh, oooh, oooooooh! How much?" Julie giggled, examining the fine, crystal-encrusted jewelry with wide, onyx eyes over Gwen's shoulder.

"Uhhhm, ermmmm, hmmmm." Gwen's emerald eyes searched the necklace avidly for a price tag as her fingers fuddled with the jewelry, but she failed to find anything. "Can't find one." Her lips drooped instantaneously to form a sad, little pout.

But Julie was ecstatic.

"Yayyy!" The dark teen clapped her hands idiotically, jumping up and down, a huge grin spreading across her face. "No price tag means it's FREE."

"Oh my gosh, yeah, it DOES!" The red-head's eyes widened to the size of baseballs. "I forgot!"

"Soooo, let's go, then! I wanna go back in that cool, dizzy, merry-go-round door!" Julie exclaimed happily, gesturing over to the revolving door that marked the exit.

"Okay!" Gwen chimed in, tightening her grip on the necklace as she and Julie bounded off to the door.

After spinning in the door about 40 times, the two drunken girls became far too dizzy to function properly, and stepped through the other side to the exit.

Big mistake.

Suddenly, unbearably loud, shrieking alarms filled the world around Gwen and Julie, causing them to gasp and run around in frantic circles as if the planet was about to explode.

"WE'RE GOING TO DIE, WE'RE GOING TO DIE!" Gwen screamed, quickly clamping her trembling hands down on her ears.

And Julie had no time to respond, for in that same second, 6 armed security men sprinted out from the building, tackling the confused, necklace-stealing girls down into the sidewalk.

…_**...**_

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE ENDING:**_

_**Lol, apparently I STILL take great enjoyment in picking on Gwen and Jules. Anyways, my job is done here. Please review; it'll show me how much you all love me! Hahaha, yeah, like I'm THAT lucky. Kay, see ya all later! **_ ****


	2. Table Dancing

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**_

_**Hey, hey, hey! Alright, here's another little reason why NOT to become overly drunk. So, if I haven't yet convinced you with last chapter, trust me, by the end of this chapter, you will MOST definitely be a believer. ENJOY!**_

_**STANDARD DISCLAIMER:**_

_**I own nothing but cookies.**_

* * *

_**The 15 Reasons Why You Should Say No To Alcohol**_

_**#2: Table Dancing.**_

NOBODY'S POV:

Arm in arm and laughing at the top of their lungs, Gwen and Kevin stumbled into the fancy restaurant, clutching bottles of booze in their white-knuckled fists.

"Hello, welcome to Gabrielle's. May I seat you two?" A hesitant yet amazingly polite, old waitress walked up to the two drunken teens.

"Uhuh!" Gwen chirped, leaning against her boyfriend for support as her knees threatened to give way under her tired and sore body.

"Okay." The waitress forced a smile, but stared at the two with weary eyes as she caught sight of the beer bottles. "Where would you prefer to dine?"

"Me and my girl want a ceiling seat, please." Kevin grinned, tightening his grip on the giggling red-head's arm.

"Um, excuse me?" The taken aback woman's eyes widened in surprise.

"Excuse you!" Gwen's face took on a shocked expression. "You burped? I didn't even HEAR it! Sorry, must be going deaf." Gwen looked down at her feet in sadness.

Kevin nodded sincerely. "It's all right, Gwen. We can always get you some hearing aids."

"Aw, thank you, Kevin!" Gwen looked up at her boyfriend admiringly. "He's always looking out for me!" Her gaze flickered back to the waitress. "Isn't he amazing?"  
"Sure." She sighed impatiently. "Now, about that _ceiling_ seat..."

"Yeah, we want one." Kevin smiled happily.

"Yes, well, you see, um, we don't..." She paused, trying to find the right words _without_ cussing at the two. It was extremely hard. "We don't HAVE ceiling seats."

Gwen looked at the waitress with a puzzled expression. "Why not? It would make it sooo much more fun to lap dance in!"

"I beg your pardon?" The elderly waitress gasped, nearly dropping the menu. Having no idea what-so-ever what a lap dance really was and taking it in the wrong context, the waitress was mortified beyond return. Surely the absentminded, red-headed girl didn't mean...

"Pardon?" Kevin eyed the waitress confusedly. "I don't think I have one, sorry." He turned to his girlfriend questioningly. "Did you bring my pardon, Gwen?"

She shook her head madly.

At this point in time, the waitress was so aggravated that she felt like throwing up the menus and pad of paper and just storming out of there like a bolt of lightning. But she _really_ needed the money...

"Okay." She sighed. "Well, why don't I just find you ANOTHER seat to sit in? Surely it won't make THAT much of a difference..."

"Fine." Kevin groaned disappointingly. "But it's coming out of your pay check."

Gritting her teeth, the waitress led the two to a vacant table in the middle of the restaurant.

"Let us know when you're ready to order." She muttered glumly, then high-tailed out of there as fast as she could. As she ran into the kitchen, she thrust the notepad into another waiter's hands, her expression as grim as that of an executioner.

"It's YOUR turn." She growled. "TABLE 6."

Meanwhile, back at table 6, the drunken Gwen and Kevin were brewing up mayhem.

"Yo Gwen," Kevin suddenly grinned, eying his girlfriend with a smug expression. "Ever tried SINGING in a restaurant?"

"Oh my gosh, no!" She giggled. "Is it fun?"

"Hell, yes." Kevin chuckled. "Here, I'll demonstrate..."

"How about you DON'T?"

Kevin spun around in his chair to find the owner of the voice, his dark eyes landing on their new, unfortunate waiter.

"Waaaaassssuppp?" Kevin grinned like an idiot, lifting his palm to give the man a high five.

The horrified waiter just stared at the hand like it was green and warty, and then flashed his irritated gaze back to Kevin. He sighed. "Please, sir. TRY to behave yourself. Everyone else here is _attempting_ to enjoy their meals."

"Okeydokey!" The dark-haired drunk chuckled loudly, causing a couple heads to turn and glare at him from nearby tables.

"Would you two care to order?" The waiter used all of his strength to muster up a half-convincing, fake smile.

"Uhhhhh, ummmm, errrrrr, ehhhhhhh..." Kevin pondered out loud.

"OOOH, I KNOW!" Gwen suddenly yelled as she sprang up from her chair, sending it crashing down to the floor.

"Miss, PLEASE keep quiet!" The waiter hissed sternly.

"Sorry..." The booze-inflicted girl looked down at her feet with sad eyes as she sat down.

The angered man rolled his eyes. "So, ma'am, WHAT is it exactly that you so suddenly _KNEW?"_ The waiter tapped his foot impatiently.

"Weellllll," Gwen looked up at the ceiling in deep concentration. "I forgot. But I know LOTS of things!"

"Of course." The infuriated waiter clenched his teeth. _No wonder that other waitress went running for the hills._ He thought exasperatedly. "What would you like to drink?"

"Waaaaater!" The drunken red-head baaed like a sheep.

The waiter nodded, then turned to where Kevin sat to take his order.

Only Kevin wasn't there.

"What the...?" The waiter scratched his head confusedly. "Wasn't your boyfriend JUST there a second ago?"

"Uhuh!" Gwen laughed. "Can I let you in on a lil' seeeeecret?" She beckoned him closer.

"I... I guess?" The waiter raised an eyebrow in surprise as he leaned in closer for her to whisper in his ear.

"He's MAGICAL!" Gwen whispered ecstatically with dreamy eyes.

At those words, the waiter felt like his head was about to explode. He couldn't take it- he just COULDN'T take all the insanity. But, like any other professional, he took a deep breath and kept his cool. "Okay, then!" He fake-smiled. "Do you know where he is?"

"Nope!" The girl chuckled, rocking back in forth in her chair.

Suddenly, a loud clatter of silverware sounded, echoing through the building. Turning swiftly on one foot to where he heard the noise come from, the waiter gasped in absolute terror as he caught sight of what was going on.

Because there was the delusional Kevin, dancing shirtless like the crazy drunk he was on a large, consumer occupied table.

"OH MY GOD! I LOOOOVE TABLE DANCING!" The hysterical red-head screamed, jolting out of her chair faster than the speed of light.

Without time to yell or even to breathe, the waiter watched in horror as Gwen jumped up onto the table and began dancing like a maniac with her boyfriend, expensive silverware soaring across the room as the table shook under their feet.

Finally finding his voice, the fear-struck waiter did not hesitate at all with laying down the law.

"SECURITY!" He wailed frantically, his hands perched on his head in disbelief.

Three minutes later and the two teens had _not_ given up on their table dancing. In fact, it had increased in dirtiness, created large, threatening cracks in the table, and scared the living crap out of every single one of the customers.

But, out of no where, an enormous squad of security guards swarmed into the building and sprinted towards the table, colliding with it and smashing it into the ground, along with the two drunken teens who were still laughing like idiots.

* * *

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE ENDING:**_

_**And there you have it, everybody. ANOTHER, very CRUCIAL reason why not to overload on the alcoholic beverages. It will result in a VERY high risk of public table dancing. LOL. :) And about the security guards attacking them, just like in the last chapter... I guess I just REAAALLY get a kick out of that, even though it's quite cruel. :D Okay! That's all for now! Review if you love me! BUH BI!**_


	3. Elderly Jumping

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**_

_**Hey, hi, hello! Okay, that was nothing but unnecessary. Anyways, if you read this one-shot… just know ONE thing: DO NOT ATTEMPT ANYTHING THAT HAPPENS IN THIS CHAPTER! Sadly, I've tried, and to make things worse, I wasn't even drunk. Just stupid.**_

_**STANDARD DISCLAIMER:**_

_**Marshmallows are a girl's best friend.**_

_**The 15 Reasons Why You Should Say No To Alcohol:**_

_**#3: Elderly Jumping.**_

* * *

Nobody's POV:

"Ben, Ben, Ben!" Kevin called to his drunken, brunette buddy. "I have an idea!"

The two alcoholic teens were bored out of their minds, waiting for their girlfriends to finish destroying the public lady's restroom.

"What?" Ben squealed, skipping merrily through the crowd of mall-shoppers. "Are we gonna go _wig_ shopping? I could use a new one." Ben nodded sincerely to himself, contemplating the idea as he scratched his head.

"Nope," The booze-affected Kevin chuckled. "We're gonna go _elderly_ jumping!" He laughed idiotically. "It's sooo fun!"

"Really?" Ben gasped. "Holy canoli! I've always wanted to!"

"Okay, then!" The ex-con cheered, leading Ben over to the mall's water fountain. "We'll start here, and, on my count of three, run as fast as you can towards that old lady, and jump over her. I'll take on that old dude over there." Kevin gestured over to his poor, arthritis-inflicted victim that was hobbling on his way to go buy his daughter-in-law a birthday gift. "Are you ready, Freddie?"

"Yup!" The giggling emerald-eyed teen chirped, leaning down into a starting position.

"Alrighty," Kevin whispered. "On my count of three: One… two… THREE!"

And the two drunks took off, sprinting through the confused crowd towards their horrified targets, and attempting to leap over them…

...

Five minutes later, Gwen and Julie finally left the bathroom, laughing like maniacs and stumbling around aimlessly.

"Yo, Ben… Kev! Where'd ya guys gooooo?" The raven-haired girl mumbled, shrieking with terror as she tripped over an innocent, knocked-over shopper that had been one of hundreds of victims of Ben and Kevin's recent game.

"Help me…" The shopper croaked, his torso pinned down to the floor by an unconscious, fat, security officer.

Wordlessly appalled, Gwen and Julie glanced up to look around at their surroundings.

And what they saw made them gasp in utmost shock.

The shopping mall's main hallway looked like a legit war-zone: the floor was covered in unconscious victims, all sprawled out with shopping bags still clutched tightly in their fists. Security guards restrained guiltless bystanders down on the floor, questioning them roughly about what had happened and who was to blame for trying to jump over the elderly. Thieves were darting around, rambling on about how this was the best day of their lives. Shattered pots and broken items lay scattered out amongst the comatose shoppers, some in the most peculiar of places.

And it was after seeing all this chaos that the alarmed red-head finally found her voice.

"OH MYGOD! JULIE, WE MISSED AN _EARTHQUAKE!"_ Gwen screamed, dropping her bottle of beer so that it smashed into a mixture of nearly invisible shards and alcohol all over the tiled floor.

* * *

_**AUTHORS NOTE ENDING:**_

_**Okaaay! So there's another reason for why you shouldn't drink excessively; a very important one. And, just remember, everybody: The elderly are your "friends", not your targets. Ehhh, close enough- you know what I mean. Kay, I'm outta here! Review if ya like… there's a root beer in the kitchen with my name on it! **_

_**(Seriously, though. I WROTE my name on it…) **_


	4. Vending Machine Beating

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**_

_**Okay, this one should be weird and amusing... enough said. Hope ya like it!**_

_**STANDARD DISCLAIMER:**_

_**Just for the record: Pepsi tastes waaaay better than Coke, but Coke is soooo much better at making commercials. Therefore, there is NO better soda beverage. I rest my case.**_

_**The 15 Reasons Why You Should Say No To Alcohol**_

**_#4: Vending Machine Beating._**

* * *

Nobody's POV:

Hand in hand, Ben and Julie stumbled through the movie theater's hallway, laughing obnoxiously like the two drunken teenagers they most definitely were. Suddenly, out of no where, Julie gasped, stopping dead in her tracks as her sparkling, onyx eyes caught sight of something. But what _was_ it?

"Ben, look!" It's a giant, purple octopus!" She squealed in an awkward mixture of horror and delight, pointing at a nearby vending machine. She began debating silently in her mind if she should either run away screaming bloody murder, or just skip up to it and give it a great, big hug.

"As if." Ben snorted, walking calmly up to the vending machine._ "Julie,_ it's a super, sonic, jet pack, alien-robot-ninja from dimension 12." He smirked, fully believing that he was the coolest guy alive for just saying that. "You should _know_ these kinds of things." He strolled up to it, resting one flat hand up against its surface for support.

"Ooooh." Julie's gaze widened as she stared up at it in pure bewilderment. "So what does it DO?"

"Nothing. Absolutely... nothing." Ben smiled cockily, in love with the fact that he knew something Julie didn't. "Except for eating and throwing up things." He nodded.

"Cooool." The dark-haired girl droned, slowly and carefully extending a single finger out to timidly poke the vending machine's glass. "Let's feed it!" She grinned, jumping up and down eagerly as she clapped her hands. Julie then ceased her jumping abruptly, pondering yet another thought. "What do alien-robot-ninjas eat?"

"Good question!" Ben cheered. "But, I... don't know." The saddened brown-haired boy frowned deeply.

"Well, let's try feeding it different stuff!" Julie chuckled, rummaging through her purse for alien-robot-ninja food. "Hmm. All I have is boring stuff. Whadda you got?"

"A cookie." Ben grinned. "But it's MY cookie, so I'll just let the alien-robot-ninja _taste_ it for a little bit, and then we can force it to throw it right back up."

"Kay!" The dark-haired girl cried giddily, snatching the cookie from the boy's hands and shoving it down the narrow dollar-bill slot. "THERE we go!" She cackled, skipping around absentmindedly in circles.

"Okay, I want it back now." Ben frowned, fuddling with the machine's buttons. "WHERE'S the throw up button?" He panicked, his fingers moving faster along the controls. "SPIT IT OUT!"

And Julie watched in horror as her boyfriend began kicking and punching the vending machine, causing it to rattle and tremble.

"GIVE ME BACK MY COOKIE!" The crazed Ben yelled, taking six long strides backwards before charging dead-on towards the machine and ramming his whole body into it.

And before Julie could do or say _anything_, Ben was flying backwards, landing in a painful, crumpled heap unconscious on the floor...

"SIR! Sir, are you alright? Are you OK, sir?" A worried employee who heard the clatter from another room came sprinting towards the knocked-out teen, checking for his pulse and breathing.

His gaze then switched over to the horrified Julie who stood, body trembling, her wide eyes locked on her unconscious boyfriend.

"Ma'am, did you see what happened? Do you know what happened to this boy?"

Julie nodded, her knees weak and tears plummeting down her cheeks as she pointed a single, accusing finger at the vending machine.

"The... the... the super, sonic, jet pack, alien-robot-ninja from dimension 12 ate his cookie." She whimpered seriously, her onyx eyes wide with fear.

* * *

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE ENDING:**_

_**Oh, poor Julie. No one will ever believe her. LOL. Alright! So there's the fourth reason why not to become overly-drunk: it may result in delusional behavior in which you see giant alien-robot-ninjas, feed them cookies, and abruptly loose consciousness. Okeydokes! I'm out! Review if I make ya chuckle! **_


	5. Drunk Dialing

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**_

_**Okay! Here goes another valid reason why not to continuously chug booze until you throw up. Hehe, okay... maybe that was a bit too vivid. On a much brighter note, here's another chapter!**_

_**STANDARD DISCLAIMER:**_

_**MOA might own a ton of cool stuff, but they DON'T own me! Yeah, if ONLY I were cool...**_

_**The 15 Reasons Why You Should Say No To Alcohol**_

_**Reason #5: Drunk Dialing.**_

* * *

NOBODY'S POV:

"Oh my god. Oh my god... _Ohhhhhh my god!_"

The drunken dark-haired teen paced back and forth across Gwen's living room carpet, his obsidian eyes as large as full moons as he repeatedly screamed 'Oh my god'. He began jumping up and down; the horrible, _horrible _sensation of anxiety making him want to throw up. Or maybe it was just this morning's hangover acting up again...

"What, what, WHAT?" Kevin's overly booze-inflicted girlfriend suddenly leaped into the room, scaring the boy so much that he somehow managed to spring into the air, flip over the dinner table, and bring the table cloth down with him in a loud, booming shatter.

Gwen cocked her head to the side, peering down at the angst-feeling teen with bright, curious eyes. "Did I scareeeee ya?" She chirped giddily, reaching out her hand to help him to his sneakers.

"Uhuh." Kevin nodded sincerely, gazing up at the beautiful red head with awe written all over his face. Which soon flashed back to his previous expression of: 'wanting-something-so-dang-badly-but-not-being-able-to-get-it-because-it-could-result-in-either-extremely-dangerous-and-or-very-lethal-consequences.'

"Wassup, Kevie?" Gwen's inquisition came out in a drunken slur. "You okay?"

The dark boy shook his head sadly, looking down at his feet. "I just remembered that my ex-girlfriend from a long looooong time ago still has all of my My Little Ponies." He frowned wearily, tears beginning to plummet slowly down his cheeks. "And... and she won't give 'em back!" Kevin was sobbing now, his head in his lap as Gwen stroked his back consolingly.

"Don't worry, I'll call up this jerky chick right now and get back your ponies." She smiled happily. "I'm reaaaally good when it comes to criminal justice. I should be a... a... a... a _law mower!"_ The red-head exclaimed with delight, somehow fitting both a 'lawyer' and a 'lawn mower' into her dream career. But hey, she was drunk off her rocker.

"Thank you so soo much!" Kevin laughed, wiping away all his shed tears. "Let's call her right now!"

"_Ring, ring, ring!"_

Groaning, Vilgax ran for his phone, muttering about his horrible luck with telemarketers. They hunted him down, and they _always_ found him, no matter what. It depressed him beyond mention.

But that wasn't even close to how much _this_ was about to depress him.

"I'M ON THE 'DO-NOT-CALL' LIST!" Vilgax roared into the small, plastic device, his tone shaking the whole apartment.

"Oooh! Haha, wow that's weird. So am _I_!" The drunken red-head giggled, leaning back against the cozy loveseat and nodding occasionally at her worry-eyed boyfriend. "Oh, and... Angelina, is it?" Gwen hesitated, looking at Kevin for name affirmation. "Um, could you _pretty please_ use your inside voice? Thanks, girl. I mean, either you have a heck of a dang, freaking-bad chest cold, or you were just born with a super-di-duperly loud voice." Gwen laughed innocently.

There was a long, tense silence from the other line.

_Girl? _Vilgax was seething with anger. I mean, _first_ the telemarketers mispronounced his name, and now, they couldn't even get his GENDER right? It was crazy. Absolutely unforgivable. They deserved immediate death.

"WHAT do you want?" The tentacled alien hissed, his tight, knuckled fists turning ghostly white.

"_Well,"_ The girl started, taking in a deep breath of oxygen. "Do you know your ex-boyfriend, Kevin? Yeah, um, he wants his My Little Ponies back, and, if you don't give them to him pronto, I'll have no choice but to call 'the officials' on you." The scarlet-haired girl humphed, smirking as she put the "ex-girlfriend" on the spot.

"You MUST have the wrong number." Vilgax stated coldly, his blood beginning to boil. "_I'm_ a male, _I_ don't have a boyfriend, and, most importantly, _I_ have no association what-so-ever with these so-called My Little Ponies!" He spat, his face flashing instantaneously from green to red and deeply resembling a set of Christmas tree lights. The alien then hesitated. "Who are 'The Officials'?"

"Seriously, you are _so _a chick. My guy doesn't date dudes." The red-head droned loudly, her gaze narrowing. "So stop lying, 'cause it ain't working on me." She spat. "To answer yo question: 'the officials' are team of people who will lock you up if you piss them off." Gwen muttered absentmindedly, picking at a nail. "Everyone knows that. And I'll turn you in to them if you don't hand over the ponies, chum. Trust me, you'll be dead meat. Oh, and, by the way, I'm not afraid to go 'law mower' on you."

"'Law... law mower'?" Vilgax gulped. Whatever that was, it sounded dangerous. _Mower..._ _what does 'mow' mean? _He thought anxiously. With that, the large alien stumbled over to his dictionary, a tool that came in handy with all of this Earthen language. _Mow... mow... mow..._ Vilgax's mind repeated over and over as he fumbled through the easy-to-tear pages. And then he found it: Mow meant: 'To sever, slice, behead, and or amputate with a sharp instrument.'

_Crap._

"Uhh, um, what was it you uh... wanted again?" The large creature choked, beads of sweat trickling down his goo-colored face.

"The My Little Ponies." Gwen tapped her foot impatiently. "Honestly, girl; are you deaf? And, do you need some lozenges? Your voice sounds _real_ bad. And I've got a crap-load of 'em."

"I, uh... I'm..." Vilgax began, not knowing exactly what a lozenge was to begin with.

"Anyways," The girl chatted right over him. "Kevin wants back his Star Catcher pony, his Rainbow Dash pony, his Minty pony, his Pinkie Pie pony, his..."

"Woah, woah, woah!" The alien exclaimed wearily, his hands struggling to find a spare pad of paper. "Can you just let me write this all down?"

"Sunny Daze pony, his Cheerilee pony, his Sundance pony, and his Sweet Stuff pony." The red-head hesitated, gasping for air. "You got all that, Angie? I can call you Angie, right?" She asked giddily.

"Um... sure. Sure you can. Whatever floats your boat." He mumbled, rolling his eyes.

"Kay!" Gwen chirped. "So, we're done here. You'll bring Kev his ponies, and the world will be happier." The girl chuckled. "You have 10 minutes." She added seriously, her gaze narrowing. "And you freaking better be here or I WILL go 'law mower' on you, _Angie." _The drunk red-head spat viciously into the phone. "Buh-bye, now!" Gwen's tone of voice changed back to that of the happy little booze-drinker she was.

And then there was nothing but silence.

Sighing, the humongous, green alien trudged unhappily over to a vacant bench, plopped down on it, successfully fractured its middle, and caused it to give way; his body slamming noisily to the floor.

But Vilgax didn't care. He didn't care at all. He had other problems that needed dealing with. The alien groaned as he sat there, staring down at the list of My Little Ponies like it was written in Russian.

"What's a 'Pinkie Pie pony'?" He asked out loud in pure befuddlement. "And where do I buy these things?"

And then it hit him: he'd go to Target. Because Target had _everything._

But as yet another problem struck the massive alien like a brick, he moaned, falling back on the floor in vanquish. "I don't want to dieeeee!" he groaned pathetically, knowing that the weird girl from the phone call _would_ mow him if he failed.

And now he would fail. Because getting _into_ Target without people screaming, running, and chucking dog toys at his face as a lame yet surprisingly efficient source of protection was a whole new problem of its own.

* * *

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE ENDING:**_

_**Aww, poor Vil-pickle! He just got pwned by Gwen's drunkenness. Haha! Okay, that's all for now! Review if ya want to- 'cause I ain't forcing you. :) Bye!**_


	6. Horrible Singing

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**_

_**WOOT! We've finally reached Reason 6! Gosh, this fanfic needed a SERIOUS update. Mmmkays, hope ya dig it!**_

_**STANDARD DISCLAIMER:**_

_**Got zip. **_

_**The 15 Reasons Why You Should Say No To Alcohol**_

_**Reason 6: Horrible Singing.**_

* * *

Author's POV:

It was a peaceful evening.

Just one of those quiet, serene periods of time when Gwen could curl up on the couch, and, without a single disturbance, finish reading her wonderful novel: "Pride and Prejudice".

Unfortunately, though, she would then wake up from the deep slumber of her flawless dream world and, with much excruciating pain, remember that Ben existed.

It all would go downhill from there.

"I'm singggggging in the rain! Just singggggging in the rain!" Ben suddenly yelled so loud that Gwen screamed with shock and toppled over; flying from the warm comfort of the couch cushions to the cold, firmness of the wood floor.

"Ben!" The furious girl with the flamed hair spat, clambering awkwardly back up to her comfortable perch. "What the h…"

"What a gloooooorious feeling!" The obviously over-drunken brunette warbled without limits as he waddled rapidly around the living room like a penguin on steroids.

"Ben, I'm serious." Gwen growled angrily, clutching her book with what were now her white-knuckled fists. "If you don't stop, I'm gonna have to…"

"I'm haaaaaappy again!" He continued gleefully as he began to skip around the room in a merry manner.

"Well, isn't that wonderful for you." The irritated red-head gritted between her teeth as she desperately tried to regain her focus on her novel's text.

"I'm having sooooo much fun!" Ben sang deeply, his face lit up with bliss.

"You know what, Ben? I DON'T care!" Gwen glowered, her expression murderous as she marched right up to the booze-inflicted boy. "If you don't put a sock in it, I'm going to do it _for_ you."

But of course, the emerald-eyed boy continued.

"I dooooon't miss the sun!" He shrieked with joy as he danced around the living room like a twirling ballerina.

And Gwen snapped, just like that.

"GOOD- YOU'RE NEVER GOING TO SEE IT AGAIN!" Gwen roared with utmost fury as she shoved a spare sock into Ben's open mouth.

"Now _that's _what I call putting a sock in it." Gwen snickered quietly to herself and returned to her reading, not even bothering to turn around and glimpse the terrified look that was now on Ben's face.

* * *

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE ENDING:**_

_**Lmao, poor Ben- he had no idea what was coming his way. Awlrighty then, if ya liked it, then pleaaaase review it! Kandi out! Adios, amigos!**_


End file.
